Wormtail
by ANessa Kedavra
Summary: James Potter— The Quidditch star.  Sirius Black—The Notorious playboy.  Remus Lupin—The Top student prefect  And Peter Pettigrew—Their friend.    The story of Wormtail.  Oneshot


**A/N: Whoo! This was intense to write, my friends, let me tell you. So please leave a review and let me what you think! I hope you enjoy it, as I SHOULD be doing other things besides writing this, but, you know… when the muse hits… *sigh*. Please do enjoy!**

I remember the day as clearly as when it happened.

We are all sitting in the Gryffindor common room—long after curfew—casually chatting in a Marauder-like fashion. Well, not all of us are chatting. Lily and James are sitting on the same chair (the smallest one to be found) and snogging one another senseless. Not that their actions were completely surprising: they had made a complete turnaround from despising one another and now, in their last year at Hogwarts, were making up for all the lost time… right in front of us of course. Sirius is silently brooding, for he has just recently broken up with his girlfriend and is none too pleased with their blatant expressions of love, but he is tactfully keeping his disapproval to himself as he plays a heated match of Wizard Chess against Remus who is, of course, beating him soundly. Sirius's knight keeps yelling out tips, but the spurned lover turns a deaf ear.

And where am I? I am cheering them on. I occasionally steal glances at James and Lily, but feel too awkward, as though I am invading their private moment.

"Five Galleons Prongs's shirt is coming off in the next ten minutes." Sirius mutters to Remus, snickering.

Remus tries to keep a straight face, but bursts into laughter. "She'll see his Quidditch scar." He remarks.

"She'll _snog_ his Quidditch scar."

The two friends burst into laughter again. James's Quidditch scar is somewhat of a resident joke amongst the Marauders. It's a thick white line, about the length of Sirius's little finger. James tells everyone it is from a particularly nasty game of Quidditch, but the truth is that it's from falling off of his broom and getting a splinter first year. Whenever it is mentioned, James turns a specific shade of red-violet just behind the ears.

James Potter—Quidditch star.

Sirius Black—Notorious playboy.

Remus Lupin—Top student prefect

And Peter Pettigrew—their friend.

It is at this moment when I truly recognize my role. I am no more than a hanger-on, someone they keep around just for the heck of it.

A knot begins to tighten in my heart. This, and the desire to prove myself worthy. Show them that I am more than the little rat following around jealously; teach them the true strengths of Peter Pettigrew. I have a purpose in life and I will ensure that when they sit and tell stories to their grandchildren from their old decrepit rocking chair, the children will look up, eyes afire and ask "tell us the story of Peter Pettigrew."

"Wormtail!" Sirius yells, startling me from my reverie, "want to do my Potions essay?"

I feel a hole in my chest at these words—a deep chasm that is beginning to eat away at my very being until they finally see me for what I truly am

"No." I reply, softly at first, but then it escalates into almost a shout. "NO!"

James and Lily stop snogging to look at me with bewildered expressions. The common room is silent as the grave except for my panting breaths.

"Bloody hell, Wormtail! It's only a nine inch scroll! What's gotten into you?"

I try to calm my pounding heart, and feel my face begin to flush. "Nothing… nothing. I'm just… tired I guess."

"He's just bitter because I transfigured his desk today." James says teasingly, making Lily to emit a soft giggle and press her red hair into his halfway-undone shirt, kissing his chin.

"I'm… going to bed." I manage to stutter out, and stumble out of the room like Sirius after too much firewhisky.

I shut the door and then wait behind it. My last test. And yet their final chance is shot forever when I hear Sirius's clear voice pierce the thick air: "So Moony, about that essay…" There is raucous laughter from everyone, and that's when I know.

The Marauders are through.

And here I stand, this memory having dissolved back into the mist that hangs so heavily around Malfoy Manor. I am in possession of Harry Potter and his two friends, about to separate them forever. Yet, in my mind, a whisper begins to nag me. This whisper begins to compare them to the Marauders. A new generation, back again for more shenanigans and mischief, only this time, they were wise enough not to have a Wormtail.

I open the dungeon door, looking for these children. Who appears from the blackness, tackling me, is not children.

It is James and Sirius.

Sirius appears to have died his hair a violent red, and James has gotten new glasses. I lash out, and grab a hold of James's throat. His face is intermingled with fear and something else as well… pity?

"You're going to kill me?" He chokes out, as Sirius beats me incessantly. "After I saved your life? You owe me Wormtail!" I withdraw my hand in a moment of indecision, but Sirius's red hair flashes in my vision. I see James and Lily on the chair of the common room, oblivious to the rest of the world, only seeing each other. I make to grab James again, to make him pay for all the torment that his oblivion sent me through. I see his eyes widen, but my hand is not around his neck. My new hand, my beautiful hand, given to me by the one who also gave me power, a name. My treasured hand lies not on the neck of James Potter…

"No!" He yells, grabbing at me. I do not understand. I open my mouth to say his name: James Potter, but all that I hear is a strangling, choking cry. "Forgive me" I want to say, but I have not the words.

I am met with only blackness.

Peter Pettigrew—their friend.


End file.
